Soak

The Blue Eyes OST

Listening to J.G. Thirlwell’s work as Foetus is disorienting. His new record Soak is full-on rock'n'roll, albeit of the theatrical variety, but with a dizzying tone. On the other hand, The Blue Eyes, his soundtrack for a movie of the same name, is eminently clear about its intentions, about the emotions it’s trying to convey, and the response it hopes to evoke.

Listening to J.G. Thirlwell’s work as Foetus is disorienting. When I stick my head under the sonic shower of his new record, Soak*,* it induces the same dizziness as many high-speed style-mashups do, such as the frantic blasts of Naked City, the hyper-cutting sample-barrages of John Oswald’s Plunderphonics, or the cartoon scores of Carl Stalling. Which is weird, because Foetus' music isn’t really a mashup. Soak—much like it’s 2010 companion piece, Hide—is basically full-on rock'n'roll, albeit of the theatrical, sometimes even symphonic variety.

What makes Soak so dizzying is not shifts in style, but tone. Stretches of restraint jump into moments of crashing bombast; broad melodrama mixes with maudlin strings and sad vocals. The leaps aren’t disorienting because they’re fast—though they can be—but because they’re so big; Thirwell loves bounding over the top with his escalating crescendoes, orchestrated swells, and dramatic effects. Add his ever-growing skills as a composer and arranger—he’s currently serving that role for Adult Swim’s long-running Venture Bros.—and you get music that’s both precise and unpredictable, both painstaking and audacious. You get “Halloween/Turbulence”, which somehow sounds like a 70’s TV mystery theme, a Kraftwerk outtake, and a Carl Orff cantata.

The bewildering effect of such tonal chopping makes it hard to judge Soak objectively. Do I like “Kamikaze”’s meld of the Beatles and the Flaming Lips because it’s as good as those groups, or because I’m amazed that Thirlwell can evoke them? Does the Tom-Waits-as-horror-flick growl of “Warm Leatherette” really quicken my pulse, or just sound like it should? All I can say for sure is Soak puzzles me in an exhilarating way, even when I don’t find it memorable or pleasurable. When it actually *is *a pleasure, as during the Bonanza-style horn-driven climaxes of “Spat,” it’s palpably thrilling. But it’s always interesting, if only because of the anticipation for what musical histrionics Thirlwell might plunge into next. Which makes it pretty hard not to pay attention to Soak when it’s playing.

That’s not the case with The Blue Eyes, Thirwell’s soundtrack for a movie of the same name. If Soak is disorienting to a fault, this album is the opposite—eminently clear about its intentions, about the emotions it’s trying to convey and the response it hopes to evoke. (One track of scary, Hitchock-worthy strings is called “Stabber”). It's rather typical soundtrack music, constructed to complement and accent visuals by finding the universal notes that reflect them. On those terms, it’s successful—Thirlwell’s a pro with expressive sonics, and he’s especially good at darker-toned moments. Pieces such as the rumbling “Muted World” and ghostly “Long View” are thoroughly chilling, certainly adding depth to any pictures. But ultimately the music on The Blue Eyes is too conventionally filmic to provide a full experience by itself. It feels more in service of someone else’s images than capable of inspiring them on its own.

In other words, I’d rather watch the imaginary film that *Soak *projects in my head than the actual one that *The Blue Eyes *soundtracks. That’s partially due to the fearless unpredictability of the former—whatever movie it could accompany would likely look different every time I’d watch, and even once I’d gotten used to the plot the editing would still surprise me. Maybe you can think of Foetus’ music as the bombast-rock equivalent of *Choose Your Own Adventure *books—the beginnings and middles of songs are not that unusual on their own, but the mix-and-match that JG Thirlwell puts them through makes the ends worth sticking around for.